


Inside Your Hands

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Friendship, Multi, Team, implied foursome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:39:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fire and blast. Ronon was far too observant for her to provide him with such obvious tells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside Your Hands

"Yes, Ronon?" She had to work not to put a hand on her belly, an instinctive gesture she disliked immensely. There was nothing to fear.

He studied her a moment longer, head tipped back like he wasn't significantly taller than she and he needed the extra angle. "Nothin'."

"Ah, yes, the famous litany of all teenagers everywhere, rallying cry to those suffused with emo-angst and an inability to communicate with any adult, but most particularly their parents."

John sniggered, not looking up from his laptop. "Jeannie?"

"Mm. Babysitting her nephews is not going well. Madison loves them, of course, and they're surprisingly good with her." Rodney had become oddly possessive of his niece over the course of his ever-more-frequent emails to his sister. "But they won't tell Jeannie anything, of course, just say 'nothin' all the time. No 'g'. She was very specific."

Ronon had gone back to staring at Teyla, in the interim. His eyes did not move, forgoing the flickering that consumed Rodney's nearly all the time, John's almost as much—the two of them were so very alike.

"You're happy."

Teyla started, aware that she had been watching both John and Rodney—stretched out in opposite positions on the bed, so engrossed in their respective laptops that John was in danger of having his head kicked—with her hand resting gently over her stomach.

Fire and _blast_. Ronon was far too observant for her to provide him with such obvious tells.

"You are happy," John said, firmly. And then, quite abruptly, he looked up over the rim of the laptop, eyes sharp but warm for all of that. "How long?"

Sucking in a breath, Teyla leaned more heavily against the cushion she had been using as she stretched into her splits. Dr. Keller had recommended that she concentrate on such stretches more than her strengthening exercises, muttering something about narrow hips. Teyla did not think she was 'too' narrow, but as her mother had died in childbirth, she was not about to discount the words of a trained medical professional, let alone the woman who was becoming her friend.

"Teyla." Rodney carefully set his laptop down on the floor. "Are you okay?"

"I—truthfully, I had expected you to panic more."

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to be panicking _about_ , but if it'll make you feel better..." He was so surprisingly sweet, the most tender of smiles just gifted to her. No other woman had seen this, Teyla knew. "Is this about your people?"

"Of course it is," Ronon snapped, heaving himself to his feet. Action comforted and reassured him, as it did for John and Rodney, but with the four of them there wasn't much room for him to pace. He ended up jittering in place. "It has to be."

Teyla looked down, staring at her own hand curving around her stomach. There _was_ a curve there to follow, if barely noticeable to even eyes. Her shirts fit strangely. "In a way, it does."

John nodded slowly, lips pressed tightly together. "I wondered about that. I didn't figure—well. It wouldn't have happened unless you wanted, so... "

It was hard not to smile, particular when Ronon and Rodney turned accusing eyes his way. "Wait a minute, you know what's going on?" Rodney demanded, Ronon growling in counterpoint. "Why didn't you say something!"

"It's not really for me to tell."

He would, though, his expression said clearly. John, who had such difficulty with words and trusted secrets, would do this for her, if she wished him to.

To her shame, Teyla felt her eyes prick. She blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the moment before it overwhelmed her because this, of all things, would frighten these men the way nothing else could. They _were_ men, after all.

"Hey." Rodney knelt beside her, a hand pressed to her side. "Um. Please don't cry? Whatever it is can't be that bad, because if it was, Sheppard would be dragging you to the infirmary or locking you in your quarters, he wouldn't be—whatever it is he's doing, which I don't get, but clearly you _do_ and please don't cry? I never know what to do when you cry. Actually, I don't think I've ever _seen_ you cry. Or sniffle. Even when you were _sick_ you didn't sniffle, not like I do when my sinuses are bothering me..."

He could go on forever, a barrage of words that spun over her like a blanket, the steady strength of him left warmly at her back. "Rodney." He stopped talking immediately, anxious and worried and _there_. With her. "Rodney. Ronon. John. I wish to tell you—" The words stuck.

This should not be so hard! It was something all the women she had ever known, until three years ago, had gone through, and many generations before. It should be _simple_ , three words to share between them the way she couldn't imagine not sharing the coming months. And years.

Thinking of it that way made it easy.

"I'm pregnant."

The tears were back in her eyes, hot and stinging, and it was only Ronon's low growl that prevented her from giving in to them. "Who?" he demanded. "Who is he?"

"He is an Athosian, but I will not name him until he has been found and asked."

"Asked? What does—" Rodney's brain, so big and powerful, had grown even bigger since she had known him. His eyes widened with understanding, mouth slanting downward in a way that had nothing to do with unhappiness but profound shock. Maybe even awe. "Are you, ah, asking? Us?"

How could one smile so broadly yet have a heart that beat so hard? Teyla tightened her hand over her stomach, unsurprised when Rodney's fingers joined hers: of all of them, he was the most tactile when in private. "I am asking you, Rodney McKay. And you, Ronon Dex. And you, John Sheppard."

"Can you do that? Ask three guys? Well, I suppose with the Wraith it would make sense that familial bonds are what you make of them, and oh my god, Teyla, you're _pregnant!"_

"Maybe you ought to ask him first? I mean, when you find him." John stood, edging closer as he spoke, eyes flickering between her face and her belly.

Of all of them, it was Ronon who stayed the furthest away, shifting restlessly from foot to foot as he looked anywhere but at her. "His answer would not matter, John," she said, but she looked at Ronon. "It is my choice and my decision. Did they not handle new life in this manner on your world?"

Ronon shook his head and still would not meet her gaze. "No. We were like the Earthers are. Um. Like what Sheppard's told me."

"Hey, I just told you a little about what _could_ happen if you didn't use condoms," John protested. "I wasn't talking about what would happen if you _wanted_ it. I didn't even talk about what would happen if _she_ wanted it." His eyes widened as he spoke. "Oh, man. How do we baby-proof Atlantis? How can we possibly have a kid _here_ when every day's a crisis and about to be blown up and—"

"Yes, because the Athosians didn't live with that for centuries," Rodney snapped. He had his laptop balanced on one knee, typing cautiously but quick. "As for baby-proofing Atlantis, that's actually pretty easy. I know the Ancients were prudes, but we did find some schematics on what to do with kids, and so long as Atlantis _knows_ the kid is in the room, all the bad things are going to magically be hidden away."

"That didn't work before," John accused. "With Halling and Jinto."

"Yes," Rodney said, rolling his eyes, "that's because I hadn't turned it _on_. Atlantis has to _know_ the baby is there, right? Also, I wouldn't call Jinto a baby, even in your head, because if he's anything like Jeannie's nephews, that's a good way to get glared and emo-angsted at."

"Rodney, do you even know what this word 'emo' means?" It was difficult to get a word in edge-wise and truthfully, she wasn't sure she should even try.

"No, but the way Jeannie's using it, it's got to be bad. There, okay," he said, tapping a final, satisfied time. "I've emailed Jeannie and she can send us a lot of baby stuff and of course you'll want your versions, whatever, but Jeannie _swears_ by a blanket-trick for getting Madison to sleep and quite frankly, I don't trust the rubber we've been producing here, so I'd rather we had something antibiotic from earth when it comes to pacifiers and bottles and—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hard on Rodney's heels, though, was John, frowning down at Teyla's stomach like it had personally offended him. "Jumping the gun a little, Rodney? It's gonna be months before it's even _here_ , and we have to figure out how to rotate the mission schedule if you don't feel up to it, and I know, I know, you're going to feel up to it, but I want Keller's opinion first, and _just in case_ we need to figure out how to manage it, because I want at least one of us here with you at all times. And oh, ginger. We need to get you some ginger for morning sickness—"

"That is a complete old wives tale, and don't you think Teyla is perfectly capable of telling us what she wants so we can go and get it?" Rodney interrupted. "Of course, Teyla, if you _want_ ginger, that's fantastic, I know exactly where to go but—"

"Astra root," Ronon chimed in. "It's what my mother used with me, and she used to grow a lot for—for my sisters," which was _not_ what he had been about to say, Teyla knew, but she merely raised an eyebrow at him. "And Koosa milk, I know where we can get some of that. It'll help the baby grow up strong."

"Prenatal vitamins!" Rodney suddenly burst out. "You need those, Teyla, and you have to learn Lamaze, _we_ have to learn Lamaze and—"

Teyla held up her hand. Surprisingly, it worked, all three of them stuttering to a halt. "You have not answered my question."

"Well of course we have," Rodney snapped at her, brisk and decisive. "You're _ours_ and any child you have—uh—I mean. If you want. Um. I didn't mean it that way, really, it just kind of. Slipped?"

The laughter rose up as light as a summer's breeze, playful and warm as she threw her head back, releasing it. Why she had worried—well. There would be much to worry about, of course, and everything could change tomorrow for the worse or for the better.

But of course she had their answer. She did before ever voicing the question.

"You did mean it that way, Rodney," she told him, kissing his forehead with a light smack. "As all of you are mine."

"Uh, can we call Keller now?" John asked, uncomfortable. He meant it, of course, exactly as Rodney did—but he would never say so. Fortunately, he had other ways of expressing himself, complete with a grim stare. "I really want you to have a check up and I don't _care_ if you already had one. You can have another. With us there. Or at least me."

"And me," Ronon added, his glare as fierce as John's.

"Oh, and what, you think I'm gonna hide? Of course I'll be there! I probably have the most experience, I mean, I took care of Jeannie when she was little and I didn't drop her on the head once, plus she's told me way, way too much about Madison."

Teyla touched her comm unit, requesting a private meeting with Keller. "It will be noisy," she admitted.

"—sister was six months pregnant when the Wraith came," Ronon grumbled, and it was a measure of his competitiveness that nothing colored his words but a desire to prove himself valuable.

"My _wife_ ," John drawled, smug in his triumph, "had two miscarriages, which is why we are going to see Keller _first_ and then we can worry about the other stuff."

"And rather full of testosterone," Teyla finished.

Keller's laughter echoed in her ear. "I'm glad you finally told them," she said, her voice faint against the three of them _still_ arguing even as they put away their laptops and dug out shoes and jackets. "I'll make sure we're in a private room. It's a good thing they fret over you already, you know. Makes it easy for me to explain things away, for now."

"True," Teyla agreed. Lifting her hands just because she could, all three of them were immediately next to her, gently levering her to her feet. It would be good practice for later, Teyla decided, as Charin's stories of her mother warned of a large, ungainly stomach. Good practice for many things. "She can see us now."

"All of us?" John asked.

Teyla smiled, lowering her head until three more touched hers, warm skin and the soft brush of hair against her own. Holding there for a breath, then two, she said, "All of us."


End file.
